Whiplash: Viewing Torture Through a Movie Lens
One of 2014’s best movies might be viewed as a meditation on torture. While a literal viewing of Whiplash concerns itself with the relationship between a jazz drummer and his mentor, one might read it more broadly as part of the contemporary debate over torture. Whiplash asks the viewer to consider when, if ever, successful but abusive methods are morally justified. Should society judge the process at least partially by the end result?
By way of background (and some spoilers), a quick synopsis follows. In order to get the best performances out of his already exceptional students, conductor Terence Fletcher engages in physical and emotional abuse. While the conductor’s behavior might not quite reach the legal definition of torture, slapping, throwing chairs, employing sleep deprivation, and harassing students with regards to family, ethnic backgrounds, disabilities, and sexual preferences is cruel, inhumane, and degrading treatment. And yet it seems to work. Fletcher’s cruelty propels student Andrew Neiman into a career making performance. Given the eye contact between the two that closes the movie, both Andrew and Terence seem to agree that such a spirited and technically accomplished performance wouldn’t have happened in the absence of extreme emotional abuse. Fletcher also claims credit for Sean Casey, a former student that played for several years in Wynton Marsalis’ band. While the movie is cut like a thriller, focusing the viewer on whether Fletcher will extract the desired performance, it does not shy away from the emotional toll that Fletcher’s method exacts. Andrew obsesses over winning Fletcher’s approval and in so doing, isolates himself emotionally, practices until he bleeds, and experiences a serious mental break. Sean presents an even more extreme case, hanging himself after several years of a highly acclaimed jazz career.
Does creating great performances and great artists justify abusive methods? Substitute “extracting information” for “creating art” and the same debate rages on in the national security context. Of course, Fletcher’s students’ ability to opt out is a significant difference. But leaving aside consent issues, both settings invite the empirical question of whether abusive methods can uniquely motivate desired behavior and the moral question of whether society should limit successful methods. Moreover, the debate in both settings often relies on the exceptional or extraordinary case. While we might disdain these methods generally, is torture justified for the ticking time bomb or is abusive teaching justified to produce the greatest artists? And advocates often seem to rely on the empirical presupposition that if a little cruelty produces desired results, then ratcheting up the cruelty will work even better.
In pondering these questions, Whiplash’s main characters conclude that extreme cruelty works. Both Fletcher and Neiman view the defining moment in Charlie Parker’s career as occurring when Jo Jones threw a cymbal at Parker for losing the beat during a early performance. Without that event, Charlie Parker never would have become Bird. And thus, in Fletcher’s mind, if a single thrown cymbal motivates, then more violent methods will motivate more. Even after Fletcher learns of his former student’s suicide, he doesn’t change his approach. He explains to Neiman that his goal was never to produce good students, but to create truly great ones. And the movie concludes with Fletcher inducing a potentially career ending humiliation that spurs Neiman on to a Bird like performance. By ending on this note, the movie forces the viewer to confront the moral question directly. While for Fletcher and perhaps Neiman as well, the ends justify the means, the movie quietly raises other points of view. To Neiman’s father, nothing, including a brilliant performance, could justify his son’s treatment. And Sean Casey’s grieving parents seek to prevent Fletcher from pushing other students as he pushed their son. They prompt an investigation that results in the conservatory condemning and firing Fletcher.
Whiplash focuses on the moral limits on the relationship between cruelty and performance. It is most decidedly not a movie about law, justice, or retribution. None of the characters seek Fletcher’s punishment through criminal or civil litigation. Neiman’s father and Sean Casey’s family only want Fletcher removed from power. This too may mirror much of the public debate over torture. While lawyers care deeply about the illegality of torture, most lay people seem to view the moral and empirical questions as the decisive ones. Similarly, while many lawyers may favor punishment for torturers, the heart of the public debate seems to be forward looking in deciding what behavior to allow rather than backward looking in deciding what behavior to punish. Whiplash provides a compelling and highly entertaining context through which to return to these questions.